


Sunflowers

by Antlerish



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, AU in which everything is lovely and golden, Dean/Cassie - Freeform, F/M, First Meetings, Flowers, Gen, Like so much, Sam/Jess - Freeform, Tattoo AU, Tattoos, and happiness all around, it's not even funny, my favorite kind, ponytail!Sam, spn au, unabashed happiness, with flowers and tattoos, you name it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 22:57:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3706805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antlerish/pseuds/Antlerish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jess Moore knew that some guy had opened up a flower shop next to the tattoo parlor she worked in, but apparently she had just never actually noticed the guy until now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunflowers

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the BSGC on Tumblr, I witnessed a wonderful conversation involving Sam and Jess in a flowers and tattoos AU and it struck a very pleasant chord with me, so here's this. I will hopefully add more :)

"Sunflowers," is the first thing Jess thinks when she sees him. She's in the middle of permanently placing a scarab beetle between the shoulder blades of a mellow hipster chick who's got her chin resting on her hands and her eyes half closed, and she only glances up because a flurry of sudden movement outside the window catches her eye. She's seen him before- kinda hard not to notice who runs the flower shop that decided to open next to the tattoo parlour she works at- but obviously never looked, because in this honey-golden moment in time, at five forty-three in the afternoon, she sees him for the first time.

He's stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, just outside her window, and is trying to keep his hold on a large bunch of floppy, white peonies, three reusable shopping bags, and a leather satchel while simultaneously pulling his phone from his pocket to answer it. His gently curling chestnut hair is slipping from the little pony at the nape of his neck and catching the afternoon light, creating a golden halo that perfectly highlights his unique profile- high forehead and pointed nose and sweetly pursed lips- and Jess doesn't remember to close her mouth until after he keeps walking, out of sight past the window. 

She looks back down at her frozen hand hovering over the almost done beetle. Okay then. She shakes her head slightly, dislodging a couple springy blonde curls from the messy bun atop her head, and focuses on her work. Her mind, though, keeps thinking of sunflowers. Tall and brown and golden and challenging the sun with their brightness. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
He’s holding sunflowers the next time Jess sees him, and yeah okay maybe it’s only because she’s finally set foot inside the flower shop- it is her mother’s birthday after all, and she does love flowers. But hey, she figures it was high time she met her neighbor anyways. He’s got his hair pulled back in a sort of half-bun at the crown of his head today, and the care with which his long, slender fingers are arranging the sunflowers in their vase is nothing short of mesmerizing. He glances up and meets Jess’ eyes through the hazy-lit fern fronds separating them, and gives a shy smile before returning to his work.

“Oh my god, dimples,” is all she can think, her heart possibly stuttering a little. She takes her time, pretending to be deeply interested in all the potted mini roses, and pansies, and domestic daisies, content to breathe in the damp, warm air of the shop and listen to the owner’s soft, deep voice as he attends to the few other customers. She checks her watch after a while though, and lets out a soft “dammit,” when she realizes she’s going to be late for work. She throws a quick glance around to make sure no one’s looking, and then tugs her hair tie out, letting her bouncy curls loose to fall around her face and shoulders. Gently picking up the arrangement she had already decided on twenty minutes ago- peach dahlias with curling fern fronds and jade succulents- she takes a breath to collect herself and approaches the counter.

His- magnificently exquisite- hands are buried up to the knuckles in loose, damp soil as he finishes repotting a tiny rosebush with miniscule red buds, but he sets it aside when he sees her and brushes his hands off on the front of his already slightly muddy jeans. “Looks like you finally found what you were looking for,” he says, the dimples making another swift appearance. 

“Sure,” Jess says, all the easy confidence and people skills built from years of being a tattoo artist flying right out that vintage paned window on the store front. “I mean, I was pretty sure, I just wanted to stay in here longer.”

He gives a soft, almost laugh at that, and his fingers fly over the register, entering in the correct amount. “You like it in here?” He asks, conversationally, his brow wrinkling endearingly as he casts her a quick look. 

Jess can feel a blush rising in her cheeks, but she glances around the shop and tries to play it cool. “It’s wonderful,” she tells him honestly, but finds she can’t meet his gaze when she says it. “I mean, I’ve never even set foot in here, even though I work next door, but it’s my Mom’s birthday and she loves flowers, and hey- when there’s a flower shop right next to where you work, it only makes sense to take advantage of it, am I right?” She throws a breathless laugh onto the end of this ridiculous babbling speech, and only then realizes that while she’s been talking he’s voided out the first amount he entered into the register and given her a five dollar discount. 

“I’m glad you like it,” he says pleasantly, a small grin playing at his mouth. “Maybe you’ll be in again.”

“Definitely,” Jess accidentally says, her usual confidence and forward nature choosing this moment to return in full force. 

He blinks, and his left cheek dimples in, and she somehow manages to dig up some cash from her pockets and pay without making a further fool of herself, and she knows she’s going to be late for work, but she just can’t leave without knowing his name at least.

“I’m Jessica, by the way,” she pipes up, and offers her hand for him to shake while jerking her head to the right a little, in the general direction of the tattoo shop. “I work next door. Tattooing people.”

He hesitates for half a moment, not wanting to dirty her hand it seems, before giving in and enveloping her hand in his. His palm is warm and dry against hers, and his fingers more than wrap around the back of her hand. “I figured so,” he says, still grinning a little as he gestures to her half sleeve with his other hand. “I’m Sam.”

“Nice to meet you,” she returns, unable to stop herself from beaming as she lets him initiate the letting go of the most perfect handshake she’s ever experienced ever. 

"And you, Jessica," he answers, and just like that his smile turns shy all over again, and Jess thinks maybe her knees go a little weak. Just a little. She walks sort of backwards to the door, stalling a bit, and before stepping out the door blurts, "you can call me Jess. Okay?"

Sam opens his mouth, but doesn't say anything, and then looks down with a wide grin and brushes his hand over his hair, dislodging a lock that falls over an eyebrow. "Okay," he says, after she's gone and the door has swung shut with a small "ching" of the bell. 

He turns back to the little rosebush, and his hands seem to know what to do because it somehow gets potted and set on a shelf even though his mind can't seem to stop thinking about how blue Jess' eyes were, and how ridiculously endearing that little mole was that sat between them.


End file.
